“Jinks!” exclaimed the Dunce, “I never thought of that.”
“Of course you didn’t,” answered the General sternly. “You have a habit of doing your thinking afterwards, and that is a mighty bad habit.”
“Quite right! Quite right!” cried a field mouse, who had been hanging around the camp for a few days. “Quite right, I says. There’s always a time to think. One ought to do a heap of thinking before one acts, I says.”
“Yes, you’re right,” put in the General, glaring at the mouse, who was very talkative. “One ought to think a great deal and then he ought to say only about one half of what he thinks.”
“Words of wisdom! Words of wisdom!” cried the mouse, never dreaming the General’s rebuke was aimed at him, and he strolled down the camp street quite pleased with himself.
“Now, Dunce,” said the General, “I’m going to try to see if I can help you do a little thinking.”
“Y-y-yes, s-s-s-sir,” answered the Dunce.
“I’m going to make you wear that thimble for the rest of the day and that ought to help you to remember that you have spoiled a perfectly good cooking pot, just because you didn’t happen to think.”
All day long the poor Dunce was forced to walk up and down in front of the General’s tent, wearing the heavy thimble. It was a warm day and the thimble grew quite hot in the sunshine, so his punishment was pretty hard, but there is no doubt it did him a great deal of good.